t when he makes his appearance on some giddy height
on a burning and tottering house, and is cheered enthusiastically by the
crowd, that his courage is most severely tried. It is when he has to
creep on hands and knees through dense smoke, and hold the branch in the
face of withering heat, while beams are cracking over his head, and
burning rubbish is dropping around, and threatening to overwhelm him--it
is in such circumstances, when the public know nothing of what is going
on, and when no eye sees him save that of the solitary comrade who
shares his toil and danger, that the fireman's nerve and endurance are
tested to the uttermost.

After leaving the cellar, Dale and his men went to attempt to check the
fire in a quarter where it threatened to spread, and render this--the
greatest of modern conflagrations--equal to the great one of 1666.

"We might reach it from that window," said Dale to Frank, pointing to a
house, the sides of which were already blistering, and the glass
cracking with heat.

Frank seized the branch and gained the window in question, but could not
do anything very effective from that point. He thought, however, that
from a window in an adjoining store he might play directly on a house
which was in imminent danger. But the only means of reaching it was by
passing over a charred beam, thirty feet beneath which lay a mass of
smouldering ruins. For one moment he hesitated, uncertain whether or
not the beam would sustain his weight. But the point to be gained was
one of great importance, so he stepped boldly forward, carrying the
branch with him. As he advanced, the light of the fire fell brightly
upon him, revealing his tall figure clearly to the crowd, which cheered
him heartily.

At that moment the beam gave way. Willie, who was about to follow, had
barely time to spring back and gain a firm footing, when he beheld his
brother fall headlong into the smoking ruins below.

In another moment he had leaped down the staircase, and was at Frank's
side. Baxmore, Dale, Corney, and others, followed, and, in the midst of
fire and smoke, they raised their comrade in their arms and bore him to
a place of safety.

No one spoke, but a stretcher was quickly brought, and Frank was
conveyed in a state of insensibility to the nearest hospital, where his
manly form--shattered, burned, and lacerated--was laid on a bed. He
breathed, although he was unconscious and evinced no sign of feeling
when the surgeo